


Room 213

by dramakhaleesi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: F/M, Relationship Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramakhaleesi/pseuds/dramakhaleesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(title subject to change)</p><p>44 Eaton Square wasn't the first place our favorite sleuth met the Woman who brought England to its knees.</p><p>This is a very self-indulgent, verging on-OOC AU / "what if" thing filled with icky, fluffy, cliche relationship tropes. You've been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Room 213

**Author's Note:**

> I was bored. This may or may not be a series. Inspired by this text post: http://bit.ly/1TGGFOW  
> Most of these were written in the middle of the night and with no proper sleep, so if you notice any errors, feel free to tell me so I can change/correct 'em. Cheers x

He didn’t have any idea how any of this started. To be honest, he’s also a bit unsure why they’re in this particular situation, really. All he knew is that it’s raining hard outside and it’s impossibly windy and cold under the roof of their shabby dormitory and the warmth of her hand in his is a particularly comfortable feeling.  
…  
Neither of them would care to admit, but it all started one night, a few months ago, during one of Irene’s fridge raids in his dorm room.

“Anything in? I’m seriously famished”, Irene shouted from his small kitchen slash laboratory while rummaging his cupboards. It’s been one of those days again, where some stupid existential debate in her Philo 185 class is left still nagging in her head. That, and her roommate’s being an absolute nightmare for not cleaning their common fridge of rotten vegetables and sour milk which might already be harboring a hodgepodge of bacteria.

“Close the windows”, was the only reply she got from the dorm’s occupant who’s lying in an old shabby sofa, transfixed at the workings of his room’s cracked ceiling.  
Finally deciding to pick the last good apple from the fridge, Irene started walking out of the kitchen to settle into one of Sherlock’s antique couches. He does have a bit of a fondness for old and classy stuff. 

“I’m fine, by the way. Thanks for asking. Class’s been shit, as always. And oh, hey. Someone stole reagent bottles filled with phenylacetone at the org chem lab last night. Thought you might want to know what the guys who snatched it are up to”, she said nonchalantly, while biting from her apple.

“Methamphetamine synthesis. Dull.”

“Well, I tried.”

“Tell me, why are you here again?”

“Catching up? Isn’t that what friends do?”

He shot her a Look then shook it off after a second and continued staring up at his ceiling. Oh, a spider suddenly appeared. How quaint. “Wasn’t aware that we were friends”, he said in response, moving a bit to ease the tension on his neck brought about by hours of lying in the sofa. “Oh, Sherlock Holmes, by the way”, he added as an afterthought.

“I know”, she replied with a smirk. “The campus thieves would love you. You’re far too blasé when it comes to intruders.”

“There’s hardly anything about them that scares me.”

“Hmm, is that so?”, Irene said with a mischievous glean in her eyes. “Adler. Irene Adler.”

“Nice to meet you, _friend_ ”

And with that, Sherlock closed his eyes and tried to roam the hallways of his mind palace while sharing a rather comfortable silence with his new-found ‘friend’.


End file.
